


to make something beautiful should be enough

by TolkienGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic POV, Episode: s14e12 Prophet and Loss, Gen, This episode was one of my favorites ever omg, holy cow, that is...Cas having an almost outsider POV even though he's part of the team, title from Siken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: (It isn't.)Castiel, humanity, goodbyes, and Winchesters.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & God (Supernatural), Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	to make something beautiful should be enough

Castiel steps out of his own mistakes, the grace receding, the prophet breathing. He has much to think on; sins to think on. He _is_ fallen.

He is going to fight for his friend. He is going to say goodbye to his friend. He insists on separating the time between the two like tattered threads.

He sees them, on the other side of his sins and his fall, two become one.

Goodbye becomes a fight, between brothers.

Selfish, endless, simple, total.

They are their own gods.

It was explained to Castiel at the dawn of Earth’s first millennium that humans could not be given more than a gardener’s plot of influence. It was explained, or rather, _infused_ , that the threads of fate were not humans’ to tangle; nor even to hold.

It was apparent that some humans were more important than others. A few hundred saints. A handful of foul-hearted dictators.

The Winchesters.

Castiel never wanted to contain his form in a vessel.

Castiel did not understand how a vessel could be perfect.

He was held back from earthly duties for an eon or five, because of this.

Outside the hospital, Castiel understands. They hold each other as stars hold to their spheres in the firmament. If you know what you are looking at, you see how it could easily have been arranged in any other way, and that any other way would have been wrong.

 _Don’t hit me again_. A hand, soft against the side of Sam’s face.

The blood in their hearts is bright, fresh, and flowing too fast. Castiel can hear it.

They are always this way. Clumsy in their words, graceful in their stride. They walk their own language; they undo their own fates. They braid them up again. They are always ready to die for the world, for each other, and they never accept death when it faces their way.

They are selfish. It is a gentle, humble, deeply-rooted selfishness. Children display it on their faces; their grimy, grasping hands.

_Tell me why you love them_ , Castiel (never) said to his Father. _Tell me why you love them so._

Humans do not see Heaven as angels see it, until they are there. They see everything simply. They suffer endlessly.

They laugh, despite this.

That is the first thing about humans that surprises him. And afterwards, he loses sight of God.

He always knows when the Winchesters are crying. Salt in the air, salt in the sea, the great hurricane of 1928, the Bonneville flats, Dean Winchester going home.

The first thing Castiel learned about helping humans was when to say nothing. It is a difficult task; he does not always get it right.

Sam blows his nose.

Dean clears his throat.

Castiel presses the pad of his thumb against the curve of Jimmy Novak’s orbital bone. It is damp; it is the hurricane, and its eye is at peace.

The vessel he has become is the most perfect thing about him.

He loves them so.


End file.
